


Baumhaus

by Wahnsinn



Series: Rammstein one-shots [2]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Friendship, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Experimentation, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23863717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wahnsinn/pseuds/Wahnsinn
Summary: Schneider is confused. Oliver tries to help.
Relationships: Oliver Riedel/Christoph Schneider
Series: Rammstein one-shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730041
Comments: 11
Kudos: 51





	Baumhaus

**Author's Note:**

> The setting for this fiction is Making of LIFAD in Sonoma, where [Oliver](https://i.imgur.com/jCT3bQi.jpg) lived in a [treehouse](https://i.imgur.com/bVpDekS.jpg). Schneider looked like [this](https://imgur.com/a/zxfiSJQ).

Soft tones from the acoustic guitar filled the tiny treehouse. Sitting on his mattress, leaning against the wall, Oliver let his fingers run across the strings. He loved sitting alone, just playing, creating melodies he had not heard before, and that he would probably never hear again in exactly the same form – making sounds. Sounds fascinated him, as long as it was not just noise.

That was why learning about the treehouse had immediately sold him on the idea of going to Sonoma to record. He had claimed it long before they left for California, and the other band members had been happy to let him have it, knowing how he liked to spend time alone in nature.

Creaking from the wooden stairs outside took him out of his reveries. Oliver stopped playing to listen, and he could clearly hear light footsteps approaching. Surprised, he wondered whom it could be. The others normally left him alone once he retreated to the treehouse, so it would have to be something special for someone to come see him here.

Soon after, there was a soft knocking on his door.

“Olli? Are you there? Can I come in?” Schneider’s voice sounded more tense than normal. 

“Sure, come on in.” Oliver started playing again as the drummer opened the door and let himself in, closing the wooden door behind him. The dark curls were hanging loose around his head, a little more dishevelled than usual, and he had a strange look on his face.

After a minute of Schneider standing somewhat bewildered by the door with a vacant stare, Oliver took pity on him. “You can sit down, you know,” he remarked, gesturing with his head to the empty space on the mattress next to him.

With a sigh, Schneider dumped down onto the mattress, laying back, his curls spreading onto Oliver’s thigh. The bassist just smiled and kept playing. There was clearly something on his friend’s mind, but he figured that Schneider would let him know whenever he was ready. Somewhat subconsciously, Oliver started experimenting with different chords, trying to create moods that could make Schneider more comfortable talking.

“Hey, Olli…” Schneider started, his voice immediately trailing off.

“Mhm?” Oliver played a little quieter, busying himself looking at the neck of the guitar and not at Schneider, who was clearly a little uncomfortable, as he was tapping his fingers nervously against his stomach.

When Schneider still didn’t say anything, Oliver decided to take another approach. Putting the guitar down on the floor, he looked straight at the drummer lying next to him.

“So, what’s up?” he asked, putting his hand on Schneider’s shoulder. Oliver could feel his friend shuddering a little from the unexpected touch. “For some reason I don’t think you came up to my treehouse just to lie in my bed.”

Schneider laughed nervously. “Umm… Well… I kinda…”

The bassist raised an eyebrow. “Kinda what?”

The drummer sighed and covered his eyes with a hand, shielding himself from Olli’s glance, his fingertips tapping lightly at his temple. “Did you ever – uhm – think about…”

“Think about what?” Oliver looked puzzled.

Schneider’s fingers stopped moving. He sighed again, deeper this time. “Did you ever think about – ehh – being with another guy?”

The frustration in Schneider’s voice stopped Oliver from responding with a silly joke. Instead, he rubbed his beard thoughtfully. After Schneider had touched upon his feminine sides as – the quite fabulous, he had to admit – Frau Schneider, he had changed. Quite a few times, Oliver had wondered when the drummer started to sit cross-legged, or if he always swayed his hips that much when he walked. Then, Schneider had decided to let his hair grow long, he had changed his style of clothing, and the way he did his make-up. Though they all liked to change up things now and then, so Oliver had just shrugged it off.

A noise from Schneider made Oliver realise that his friend was waiting for a response. “Yeah, of course,” he said pensively. “I think everyone does at some point.”

A sigh of relief told Oliver that at least he hadn’t screwed up and said something totally wrong. Yet the tension in the air suggested Schneider had more on his mind.

“Why do you ask?” Oliver said, trying to sound as casual as possible, even though he was intrigued about the whole situation. This was so unlike Schneider. Granted, they had spent a lot of time together over the years, but the drummer never really had a problem saying what he wanted to say, not even when he had to speak English in interviews because no one else really wanted to, and he felt like he had to take pity on the poor journalists.

“I…” Schneider shifted a bit and moved his other hand up to his face as well, as if he was trying to hide. Instead of tapping his hands, he started tapping his feet against the small drawer by the edge of the bed.

Growing impatient as well as annoyed by the sound of Schneider’s feet against the drawer, Oliver decided to try another strategy. Swinging his leg gracefully across his friend, he swiftly grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the mattress so that he couldn’t hide his face anymore. “Come on, Schneider. What’s wrong, just say it?”

The drummer made a half-hearted attempt to free himself. Sighing, he gritted his teeth and set his light blue eyes straight into Oliver’s. “I think maybe I’m gay, okay? But I never was with a guy like that and I’m scared and I wanted to ask if you had thought about being with a guy and maybe if we could, I mean, maybe you could help me or maybe we could try something, just as friends of course, to see if I even feel anything or if I think it’s terrible, maybe I’m just imagining things and this is just some stupid phase, I don’t know, god dammit, Olli, just – I’m being silly, just forget it…”

As the long stream of words ended, Schneider almost deflated into the mattress. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut, tears burning behind his eyelids.

The light tickle of a beard, then soft lips meeting his in a brief, but tender kiss, made him open his eyes in surprise. “Olli?” he said, dumbfounded, staring into the big, blue eyes of his band mate.

“Was it something like that you had in mind?” Oliver smiled, looking down at Schneider. Letting go of one of the drummer’s wrists, he ran his fingers through soft, brown curls, brushing strands of hair away from Schneider’s forehead and cheeks.

Oliver let his fingertips trace the contours of his friend’s face. The skin was soft, with an unkept, dark beard after not shaving for a while. It looks good on him, he should trim it and keep it, Oliver thought as he outlined the slim lips with his fingers, causing Schneider to open them slightly, exhaling deeply, his breath warm against Oliver’s hand.

“You have to tell me what you want me to do,” Oliver said softly. Sitting back a bit, careful not to put too much weight on his friend, he let go of the other wrist as well and smiled as he looked down at the man underneath him. Wavy curls flowed onto the blanket. The arms of the slightly wrinkled black shirt were rolled up, and there were faint, red marks on his wrists from where Oliver had pinned them down. As usual, the three top buttons of his shirt were open, revealing just a smidge of hairless chest, and the drummer’s mouth was half open, his eyes half closed, his cheeks light pink.

“Do – anything you want…” Schneider’s voice was strained.

The drummer shivered as Oliver unbuttoned his shirt. “Let me know if something feels wrong. Or right,” Oliver murmured, and got an affirmative sound in response.

With the shirt out of the way, long fingers started caressing Schneider’s neck, slowly moving down to his collarbones, the skin smooth and warm to the touch. Closing his eyes fully, Schneider let his head fall back, his breathing heavier. Taking that as a sign of approval, Oliver let his hands slowly slide down Schneider’s sides, across his abdomen, up to his chest, circling the nipples, then playing with them, keeping an eye of his friend’s face while pinching them lightly.

Small moans of pleasure escaped Schneider’s lips, and Oliver smiled, feeling something stir below him. Still focusing on one nipple, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the drummer’s cheek. “Everything okay?” he whispered into his friend’s ear, licking the sensitive skin behind it teasingly with the tip of his tongue.

A hand on his head urged him to keep going. Wrapping his lips around the earlobe, he started gently sucking it. As he let the tip of his tongue slide around the edge of the ear, Oliver was rewarded by a loud groan. Moving back to the earlobe, he nibbled on it while letting his hand play with Schneider’s other nipple.

As the other man became increasingly louder, Oliver kissed his way up towards his mouth. Hesitating a little, he let his own linger just above Schneider’s for a moment, which was a moment too long. Grabbing Oliver’s head with both hands, the drummer pulled him in, kissing him hungrily. Encouraged by the sudden boldness, Oliver let his hand glide down Schneider’s abdomen, finding the little trail of hair. Schneider’s breath became hitched, the kissing more desperate, the drummer’s tongue sliding in between Oliver’s, the tips of their tongues teasing each other as the tips of Oliver’s fingers teased Schneider by not moving further down, just circling the skin lightly.

Breaking free from the kiss, Schneider stared into a pair of big, playful eyes and an equally big smile. “God dammit, Olli,” he panted.

“Anything you want me to do?” Oliver grinned, his fingers still playing with the hair just below Schneider’s bellybutton.

“Could you – take off my shorts,” Schneider managed, his cheeks reddening.

Sitting up to unbutton Schneider’s cargo shorts, Oliver couldn’t help but notice the very visible bulge pressing against the front. “Want me to take off these too?” he chuckled, sliding his fingers into the sides of the waistband of Schneider’s white Calvin Kleins.

Schneider responded by lifting his hips up so Oliver could pull his shorts and briefs completely off, kicking off his shoes while at it. Tossing the clothing on the floor, the bassist leaned down and immediately took one of Schneider’s stiff nipples in his mouth, sucking greedily, his tongue flickering across it while letting his fingertips caress the insides of the drummer’s thighs.

Oliver could feel the drummer spreading his legs to give him more access, writhing under his touch, getting more and more desperate, letting out small sounds of pleasure that gave him immense satisfaction. Reaching down with his hand, Schneider tried to grab himself, but Oliver swiftly pinned his hand down, blocking access for the other with his body.

“Please,” Schneider whimpered as Oliver’s tongue slid down from his tender, swollen nipple to circle the bellybutton, the brown beard rubbing softly against his skin.

“Just tell me what you want,” Oliver murmured.

“I – I want you to suck me,” Schneider whispered, so quietly that Oliver barely heard him. But he did, and with a smile, he let go of the drummer’s hand to let his fingers curl around Schneider’s cock, lifting it up, licking the tip slowly with a flat tongue.

The beautiful sound that emerged from Schneider made Oliver smile broadly. Licking again, he let his tongue slide up the entire shaft, his fingers gently playing with his balls as the tip of his tongue explored the sensitive area around the head, paying extra attention to the frenulum, which made Schneider bite his bottom lip, hard.

Covering his teeth with his lips, Oliver let the shaft slide along his tongue deep into his mouth, slowly sucking while pulling out, producing a long, drawn out sigh from Schneider. Taking him in again, the bassist was in control of the rhythm, not the drummer, who just had to follow; Slower, faster. Shallow, deeper. Sucking, licking, teasing… Schneider had no chance to hold on for long. His entire body stiffened, sweet moans echoed Oliver’s movements, feet pressed against the drawer, hands grasping the blanket to have something to hold on to as he, without even realising it, screamed out Oliver’s name, losing himself in an orgasm that made him see stars.

“Do you have a towel or something,” Schneider mumbled, eyes closed, still breathing heavily.

“What do you need a towel for?” Oliver replied, smiling at the man lying naked next to him on the bed.

Schneider tapped his stomach with his hand.

“Oh.”

The drummer looked at Oliver, surprised, confused. “Are you…?”

Oliver chuckled. “Not that it has anything to do with _that_ , but – yes.”

“Why didn’t you say?”

“You never asked,” the bassist shrugged. “How about you? Get any answers?”

Schneider paused, looking away. Oliver could see a bit of shame on his face, and he understood, even before the drummer finally spoke.

“It was naïve of me to think that this would give me answers. I didn’t mean to trivialise it, and I am sorry about that. But I am grateful for how you handled my ignorance. You are a great friend and a great guy, Olli. Thank you,” he said quietly.

The bassist smiled, squeezing Schneider’s shoulder reassuringly. “I hope you don’t think I would have done this if I didn’t want it myself.”

Schneider raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you would be up for – helping me more?”

“You can come visit my treehouse any time,” Oliver smirked, and gave the drummer a light kiss on the forehead.

  


**Author's Note:**

> My friend Tora gave me inspiration for this fiction. Any feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading!


End file.
